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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535352">Transitus</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysedge/pseuds/skysedge'>skysedge</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Octopath Traveler (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabble Sequence, F/F, Introspection, Post-Canon, Self-Discovery, Self-Doubt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:08:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>538</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysedge/pseuds/skysedge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This should be the happy ending. For Primrose, it just doesn't feel that way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Primrose Azelhart/H'aanit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>femslashficlets: tarot prompt challenge</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Transitus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It should be the end of the story. Primrose has had her revenge, Simeon is dead and together with her friends she’s averted worldwide calamity. This should be the happy ending, the start of a new life.</p><p>But it isn’t. It doesn’t feel that way at all. Not for her.</p><p>She makes an effort to feel like a new person. She picks a town at random, rents a room, introduces herself to the locals. She packs her dancing clothes away and dons simple work wear instead. She even goes so far as to cut her hair. It should be easy to start over, make am honest living, be happy with what she has but it <em>isn’t, </em>not at <em>all.</em></p><p>The problem isn’t what she has to do. It’s who she has to be to do it. Try as she might to he a hard working young woman, someone like Tressa perhaps, she can’t make it fit. It’s not <em>her. </em>Which begets the question of who <em>is </em>she? The dancer? The vengeful, hard-hearted seductress with no love for the world? No, she doesn’t want to be that woman forever, she’s learned to trust again and she’s not going to throw that away. But the way of thinking she had adopted just to survive isn’t so easily abandoned. She feels trapped, caught between two lives, between light and dark, not belonging in either.</p><p>Many a night she lays awake thinking about it but she can’t find any answers on her own. After a few months she realises she needs to talk to someone, someone who knows her story already. There are only handful of people that fit the bill, the people that had led her to this future to begin with. Even out of those, she’s not sure who to turn to.</p><p>The men are out of the question. The only one that has a chance of understanding is Therion and he's not exactly comforting at the best of times. Besides, she's willing to bet he's having a similar crisis of his own. Tressa is a little too young and self-assured to understand and Primrose doesn’t want to barge in on her happy ending anyway. Ophelia would listen without judgement, it’s true, but she’s likely to offer sympathy and pity is the last thing Primrose wants.</p><p>That leaves one option.</p><p>“H'aanit.”</p><p>Speaking her name aloud, Primrose is filled with warmth. It spread from her chest outward, new life surging through her veins. H'aanit will listen. She'll comfort but won’t pity. She’ll offer advice in her calm and soothing voice, probably use some hunting anecdote to explain what she means. Primrose has always loved listening to her talk. Just the sound of her voice may be enough to help Primrose find an answer on her own.</p><p>Primrose spends the night laying awake and thinking back over the time they had spent together. The twilight conversations, the teasing about romance, the night she had tried to teach H'aanit and Cyrus to dance and lingered with the former just a little longer. By morning she’s feeling better already. She doesn’t bother packing her things when she leaves.</p><p>The only option. The best one. Perhaps H'aanit has been the only one since the beginning.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For the femslash ficlets Tarot prompt table challenge, 'The Hanged Man', Great personal sacrifice that still doesn't hurt much.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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